


Red Velvet

by May



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood, Cannibalism, F/F, Monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 18:49:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20569163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/May/pseuds/May
Summary: A hunter rescues a girl from a mysterious monster, again and again.





	Red Velvet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plastics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plastics/gifts).

The first time Morgan rescues Isabelle, it takes place just off the main road, outside a train station, close to midnight. Something with stringy hair and walking on broken legs puts its clawed hands against the wall. It looms over a girl, small with chestnut hair, eyes closed, passed out so she can’t defend herself.

Morgan takes a blade from the pocket of her coat. It’s nothing special, but it’s strong and sharp and cutting off the head will kill a whole lot of things. Silently, she stalks from the shadows towards the lights of the station. It takes a couple of minutes to take the thing off guard, twist her fingers in its hair and dig the knife into its scrawny neck. It bucks and writhes against Morgan as she forces the blade through its rotten throat, breaking sinew and snapping yellowed bone. It splutters and spits cold, still blood onto the pavement. When she’s done, Morgan lets its body drop, its head rolling away to nestle against the brick wall of the station.

Morgan shakes hair and bone from her leather gloves, before she hears a quiet moan. The monster’s victim is stirring against the wall. This close, Morgan is struck by the dusting of freckles across her nose, and her full red mouth. The girl flutters her long lashes as she opens her eyes. They’re as bright and green as the Spring.

“Is it dead?” whispers the girl.

Morgan points wordlessly at the monster’s corpse, and the girl doesn’t blanch when she looks. She nods and looks back at Morgan. There is not a hint of fear or apprehension in her large eyes.

“You saved me,” she says. She smiles, and Morgan swallows. “Thank you.”

“It’s what I do,” replies Morgan, brusquely, putting her blade back in her pocket.

The girl sighs, perhaps with relief, her chest rising and falling beneath her red coat. “I’m Isabelle,” she says. “Just so you know.”

“Morgan.”

Isabelle hums, thoughtfully, before sliding her hand into her bag and retrieving a small box. “I made these,” she says. “They’re a gift for a friend, but you can have one.”

She opens the box and takes out a small bundle, wrapped in red paper. Isabelle takes Morgan’s hand and presses the bundle into her palm. Morgan looks at it for moment and, when she looks back at Isabelle, she’s staring at her, her eyes sparkling. Morgan can’t bring herself not to oblige, so she unwraps the bundle to reveal a small, red cake.

“Red velvet,” says Isabelle. “Try it, I worked hard on them.”

Morgan raises the cake to her mouth, hesitantly, as Isabelle watches her, intently. Morgan takes a bite, and it’s perfectly sweet and rich. The cake is small, so she eats the whole thing, quickly.

Isabelle laughs, ringing like bells. “I guess I did a good job,” she says.

Morgan blushes and wipes her hand on her coat.

“I have to deal with this.” Morgan gestures to the monster’s corpse. “You should go.”

Isabelle lowers her eyes, but then smiles and nods. “Okay. Thank you so much,” she says. “I really needed help, there.”

Then she disappears back down the alleyway towards the High Street.

When she’s gone, Morgan crouches beside the monster’s corpse and rolls it onto its back. Its neck-stump leaks dead, viscous blood and its twisted limbs are splayed. And in the middle of its chest, there’s a ragged, empty hole where its heart should be. Morgan stares for a moment at the walls of rotten flesh within the hole, before standing and retrieving the severed head. She drops it onto the torso of its body and it lands staring upwards, jaw sagging, eyes bulging.

She takes a box of matches from her other pocket, lights one and lets it drop onto the corpse. It takes a couple of minutes to burn, like something that just shouldn’t be, leaving nothing behind.

The second time, Morgan finds Isabelle under a tree in a park, a monster’s limbs wrapped around her waist, gaping mouth at her neck. Morgan spins, holding her blade, and takes its head off in one movement. She watches the head roll under a tree, and turns to see Isabelle staring at her, green eyes full of stars. Morgan’s breath catches in her throat.

“You came to help me, again,” breathed Isabelle.

Morgan opens her mouth to try and say something, but Isabelle lunges forward and wraps her arms around her waist in a hug. And Morgan can’t say anything. All she can do is listen to the rustling creak of her leather coat, and feel Isabelle’s warmth against her, her soft chest against her ribs and her silky hair against her chin. Morgan puts her hands awkwardly against Isabelle’s back and inhales. Isabelle smells like strawberries.

They stand like that for a long moment, until Isabelle pulls away and sighs, before pulling that same box from her bag, again.

“I still have some of these, left,” she says. “You should have another one.”

Once again, Morgan unwraps one of the little bundles, and eats the cake inside. It melts on her tongue, apparently having not gone stale in the interim. Isabelle beams when Morgan finishes.

After Isabelle has left, Morgan takes the head and dumps it on the monster’s body. Again, there’s a hole in its chest where its heart is not. Morgan frowns and lets it burn, and wonders why she’s never seen any of these monsters missing hearts attacking anyone else.

The third time, Morgan finds Isabelle on the floor of a car park, straddled by a monster, its hands around her throat. Morgan dashes and kicks it in the ribs, sending it sprawling. She sits astride it, placing her blade at its neck as it stares up at her with glassy, rolling eyes. Its pale, bony arms with their clawed hands push at her shoulders as she drives the blade through its throat. When its neck snaps, its arms fall, and it goes still.

Morgan looks up to see Isabelle standing beside her, her chestnut hair shining under the dingy car park lights. She holds out one of her little cakes, and presses it against Morgan’s lips. Morgan opens her mouth and lets Isabelle move it onto her tongue, her fingers brushing against her bottom lip. She takes a bite and looks up to meet Isabelle’s eyes, shining and green in the gloom.

Morgan swallows and licks the crumbs from her lips. Isabelle giggles, a bright peal.

Afterwards, Morgan sits on the concrete of the car park and watches the monster burn. The taste of the red velvet still sits on her tongue, as fresh and vibrant as ever, and she almost wants to think that Isabelle brings them especially for her.

The forth time, the monster is on the ground in an alleyway, its hands around Isabella’s ankle. It grunts as Morgan steps onto its back, and lets go before she pulls its head up by the hair and hacks it off. This time, it drops between Morgan and Isabella, who turns and smiles.

“I knew I could trust you,” she says.

Isabelle steps closer, bundled cake in hand. She presses it against Morgan’s gloved palm, her eyes sparkling. Then she stands on tiptoe, and presses her lips against Morgan’s. It’s gentle, and warm, and she still smells like fruit. Isabelle gently rests her hand on Morgan’s coat sleeve and Morgan closes her eyes.

Morgan eats her cake as she watches the monster burn, chewing it slowly, savoring the taste, and the richness on her tongue.

The next time, Morgan finds Isabelle back outside the train station. This time, there is no monster. Instead, somebody lies motionless on the ground, chest open and ribs bloody. There is a hole where their heart should be, the walls inside raw and red.

Isabelle stands with her back to Morgan, chestnut hair catching the light from the station. When she turns, her skin is pale and radiant, and her eyes luminous. She smiles, showing sharp teeth, vivid blood dripping down her chin. In her hand is a human heart, her fingers pressed into its meat, squeezing blood onto the pavement.

“You came!” she breathes. “It didn’t wake up, this time.”

Isabelle extends her hand, holding out the heart.

“Here,” she says, with a smile. “I worked hard on this.”

Morgan stares at the heart for a moment. Then, she takes it, blood sopping between her fingers. She lifts it to her mouth and eats.


End file.
